


The More Things Change...

by Nova_Raven



Series: Dead and Gone Verse [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Zombie Apocalypse, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_Raven/pseuds/Nova_Raven
Summary: Elton’s just trying to protect Colby.  Colby doesn’t want the protection.
Relationships: Colby Brock/Sam Golbach
Series: Dead and Gone Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565569
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: Download fics





	The More Things Change...

Elton is the first one to see him after the first time Sam… after he’d first gotten the bruises.

“What the fuck is that?” Colby freezes on the way back from the kitchen, because that’s Elton, and oh fuck, he is not in the mood to explain to Elton why there’s a giant, angry bruise on his neck.

And his chest.

And his shoulder.

And he’s not exactly walking right either because there’s an aching, ripping pain between his legs…

“It’s not a zombie bite,” Colby says quickly, going to turn from him but Elton catches his shoulder, and Colby yelps as Elton slams him into the wall next to him, knocking his head hard into the plaster.

“Then where the fuck did it come from, Colby?” Elton demands, a hard hand on his chest, and Elton’s breathing hard uncomfortably close to his face. Colby winces and looks away, his head spinning from the impact but turning his head must expose the skin of his shoulder and the bite mark there because Elton makes a noise and suddenly he’s yanking at Colby’s shirt and pulling it over his head before Elton’s snapping, “Colby, what the fuck?”

“They’re not zombie bites,” Colby snarls, “Let me fucking go…” And he’s trying to free his arms from the shirt Elton is now holding tightly so that he can get away because fuck that shit he is not having this conversation with Elton…

“Then what the fuck are…” And Elton’s voice trails off, and Colby finally manages to get his eyes clear of the fabric of his shirt so he can see why Elton’s stopped. But then he figures out what Elton is staring at.

There are finger shaped bruises imprinted into his hips.

He gets a vivid flashback, Sam’s fingers, tight on his hips, pulling Colby into him harshly as white hot pain rips into him… 

And that’s all it takes. Colby watches Elton make the connections between Colby’s body language and the bruises on his body. He releases Colby with a look of horror on his face. “Shit, dude… Fuck, I’m so, so sorry…” And Elton’s a little more emotional than Colby thought he would be but that’s fine. Colby can adjust…

Colby yanks his shirt back down, rubbing at his skin as the bruise on his chest throbs. “Elton…” He starts.

But there’s a new tension in Elton’s body that Colby doesn’t anticipate. “Who was it?” Elton asks, and there’s a dangerous tone in his voice. “Who was it, Colby? Was it the fuckers down the street? Because I swear to God, I’ll fucking find them and I’ll fucking kill them all…”

And then Colby realizes what Elton thinks. He thinks that someone else… He holds his hands up. “Nonono, it wasn’t… I wasn’t…”. He doesn’t even want to say the word. But he also really doesn’t want Elton to know where the bruises came from. “No one hurt me…”

Not really, anyway.

Elton looks relieved for a split second, before he’s squinting at Colby again, “Then where did they come from, Colby?”

“None of your business,” Colby deflects, trying to step out from behind Elton but Elton has gotten back in his face now that he’s been reassured that Colby hasn’t been hurt. 

“Who the fuck bit you, Colby?” And Elton’s backing him back into corner.

“Back the fuck up Elton,” Colby snaps because he really doesn’t want to talk about this, doesn’t want anyone to know about this thing that he and Sam have done because he’s not even sure if he’s okay with it, let alone someone else knowing.

“Was it Sam?” And Colby doesn’t even know how Elton knows to ask, but his heart stops, and his breath catches, and Colby knows by the look on Elton’s face that his own expression has given him away. Elton’s whole body seems to sag, all of the anger and fight going out of him in a second. “Colby…”

“I never said no…” Colby says faintly, and he hates the emotion welling up in the back of his throat. 

“Colby…” And when Elton reaches for him again he flinches. Elton cringes, resting a light hand on his shoulder. “Just… If you ever wanna talk, dude… just lemme know, okay?”

Colby nods, and tries to push past Elton again. This time, Elton lets him go, but Colby can feel Elton’s gaze following him all the way back to his room, where he closes the door and flops back down on his bed. 

His ass fucking hurts, and he’s pretty sure he can feel something dripping down his leg…

Elton lets it go for a long time, which kinda surprises Colby. Elton has never been the kind of guy to just let things go, let matters go unaddressed. But then, it’s also never been the zombie apocalypse, and Elton’s never had to worry about… whatever the fuck Sam and Colby are doing. 

Colby doesn’t know what it is either. He just knows that Sam will show up at his room most nights, and he’ll fuck Colby until he comes. Sometimes he’ll get Colby off first. Sometimes he just comes in and takes what he needs and leaves again.

It’s not healthy, Colby acknowledges that. But this… this is what he deserves, he figures. The only way anyone would ever want him like this again. Probably. 

And besides…

He’s never said no…

So when Elton finds him one night while he’s cleaning the most recent bite mark he’s not surprised by what comes out of Elton’s mouth.

“Why do you let him do this to you?” Elton’s voice comes from behind him, startling Colby as he’s pouring hydrogen peroxide onto a bite mark on his shoulder. Sam accidentally (at least, he thinks it was accidental) broke the skin while he was holding Colby down this time, fucking into him harshly from behind. It stings, burns, but that’s not the painful part. 

Not really.

Colby shrugs, setting the bottle down and pressing a towel over the bite mark. And he knows that Elton knows who they’re from, because he doesn’t freak out and demand to know where Colby got them, and if _one of them_ had gotten him. 

It seems everyone knows these days. But then, that’s really what he should expect when getting naked is a prerequisite for leaving and entering the damn house. 

_“I want to see what the current bite marks are so that I know if you get new ones,” Elton insists, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not gonna make you talk about it dude, but for all of our safeties, I need to know, okay?”_

_And he hates it because Colby’s just trying to get the fuck out because the newest bruise on the inside of his thigh fucking hurts and he’s trying to take his mind off of this fucking house and the people trapped inside with him._

_Funny. How the symbol of his freedom had become the symbol of his imprisonment._

_Trap House. How fitting._

_“Fine,” Colby agrees tightly, and he shucks his clothes off right there, letting Elton see the bruises that he’s covered in, the newest one purple on his thigh, bite marks and handprints everywhere…_

_Elton’s face is deceptively blank when he looks Colby over. Colby imagines he’s schooling his expression because he knows Elton, and knows that he can’t be okay with what he’s seeing._

_He’s proven right when Elton asks, “He’d stop if you asked, right?”_

_Colby feels the question stab him through the gut with an icy blade. He can only nod. Because yes. He knows Sam would stop._

_Stop everything._

_So really, Elton’s asked the wrong question. Because it’s true that Sam would stop if he asked him, but he should have asked if Colby felt like he could say no if he needed to._

_Because the answer to that is no._

Elton’s question is still lingering in the air.

_“Why do you let him do this to you?”_

“Because we both need it,” Colby answers finally, giving the bite mark on his shoulder one last look before he pulls his shirt back on. The peroxide might bleach the shirt, but that’s okay. 

He doesn’t really like this shirt anyway. It’s just another layer under the duct tape jacket he’s gonna pull on next. 

“What are you getting out of this?” Elton asks, and he’s leaning in the doorway, and his face isn’t angry anymore, just sad, resigned. “He hurts you, he gets off. I know you’re not a masochist. What are you getting out of this?”

Colby could be embarrassed that Elton knows that, but he honestly doesn’t really care anymore. Sound travels well in the trap house. He’s sure people have heard him. There’s only so much pillows can do. 

“Because…” And Colby has to think about, think about what exactly he gets out of it. Because he doesn’t like the first answer that pops into his head. 

_Because I deserve it..._

“Because he needs me?” Colby says with an empty shrug, feeling the black hole in his chest gape just a little wider, “Because it’s what he needs?”

“He needs to hurt you?” Elton asks, and he doesn’t seem impressed, “He needs to treat you like a fuckin’ prostitute?” 

That hurts, and Colby feels that deep in his chest. Because it’s a dark thought that he’s had, because even though he knows in his heart that Sam cares for him in some, dark, fucked up way, he’s just…

And he deserves it, for taking Kat from Sam. Because if this is how he can make Sam feel better then… well, he’s gonna do it. Because Sam might hate him, might be just using him as a body, a hole to fuck but…

But Colby still loves him. Is still just trying to support his brother. In whatever way he needs. 

Colby doesn’t say anymore and Elton doesn’t press, letting Colby walk past him and out to the stairs. “I’m going outside,” He tells Elton over his shoulder. 

“Come back,” Elton says tightly, but Colby doesn’t really hear him as he pulls on his jacket. Or maybe he ignores him. It’s probably a combination of both. Because there are two times he feels alive these days; when he’s outside the house, and when Sam’s inside him.

It’s not hard to imagine what death would be like anymore. 

Because there’s only one reason Colby even really comes home anymore. 

And he’s pretty sure that reason hates his guts...

When Colby gets back to the house its almost dark. He doesn’t have to check to know that Sam’s already in his room waiting. And fuck, maybe its selfish but he really, really doesn’t feel like sex with Sam tonight. Because he knows it’s late, and that Sam has been up all day worrying about him (or just angry he’s not where Sam wants him, he’s never sure which). Either way, Sam’s going to be channeling some sort of aggression and shit this is gonna suck...

It occurs to him as he walks into the trap house that he could always say no, could always tell Sam to stop. 

But can he? Really? Does he really want to risk Sam walking away forever? He isn’t sure.

“I’m home!” He hollers after the door is closed, already pulling his layers of duct taped clothes off. He hears movement from upstairs, and he looks up to see Devyn and Sam wandering down the stairs, Elton popping out from his cave in the garage. He’s basically naked as they all converge around him. He pulls off his underwear and just stands there. He’s painfully aware of the newest bruise, a dark purple bite mark, on the inside of his left hip. 

Sam had noticed that his hands weren’t leaving bruises anymore. So he bit Colby. Hard. And that stuck. 

God, that had hurt. And he’d hated it.

And that was obviously why he’d come like a geyser afterwards. 

Elton’s staring at him, and his face is deceptively blank. Colby knows he’s very carefully controlling his expression. Devyn’s face is blank, actually blank. But Devyn’s not been the same person since Corey died so that’s not a surprise. 

Sam... Sam’s face is tight. Colby can see the barely controlled anger beneath the surface. And a small look of pride at the newest bruise. Colby swallows. Yeah, Sam’s got plans for him later. 

“Nothing new,” Elton confirms, sending Colby and Sam both meaningful looks. Colby nods, reaching for his clothes to pull them back on. 

“Anything in the backpack?” Devyn asks, nodding at Colby.

Colby shakes his head, “Not today.” 

“Cool.” And she’s gone again, retreating upstairs. Elton’s not far after her, even if the look he casts Sam and Colby is wary. Sam heads up the stairs almost immediately too, even if Colby knows where he’s going. 

And even if he’s not heading there immediately... that’s where he’ll be at some point tonight. 

Colby’s not wrong. He’s barely laid back in his bed, fucking exhausted from running around outside and avoiding Z’s, when Sam is through his door again. He climbs into Colby’s bed, and Sam’s kissing him, kissing him hard. Sometimes he lets Colby hold him back. Tonight seems to be one of those nights. Colby’s never sure what triggers it, what string of events have to happen for Sam to allow it, but tonight seems to be one of them, and Sam breaks the kiss to trail little bites down his jaw to his neck. Colby closes his eyes, trying to pretend that everything is completely wanted... healthy... 

Consensual. 

And that’s a weird word that’s suddenly popped into his head. Has all of this, what they’ve done, not been consensual? Sure it’s been painful sometimes, but...

And then Sam bites him hard again and Colby shouts, jerking against Sam. “I hate it when you’re out late,” Sam breaks the bite to breathe, whispering the words against his throat, “Fuckin’ scares the shit out of me.”

”I know, I’m sorry,” Colby whispers back, running his nails against Sam’s back, “I couldn’t get away safely. Not until later.” 

“I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” Sam says, “I can’t lose you, Colby...” And that’s the most emotion Colby’s heard from him in a long time and he has no idea what’s causing it. 

“Sam, what...” But his words are cut off again on a yell as Sam digs teeth into his collarbone. “Fuck, fuck Sam, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” He can only imagine that Sam had been scared, scared of losing him. And that warms the ice in his chest just a little bit. It reminds him that Sam does care about him, even if... even if... 

And Colby didn’t bother keeping clothes on once he was upstairs, so when Sam shoves the blankets out of the way there’s nothing between him and Colby’s heated skin. Colby groans as Sam grips hard into his thigh, shoving his leg up so Sam can get to...

”Fuck, Sam, fuck, lube, please?” He’s gasping it before he realizes it, and he’s never stopped Sam before, never asked him to do something. He won’t stop Sam from fucking him but... shit, at least if he doesn’t go in dry...

It’ll save Colby from having to clean blood out of another set of sheets. 

Sam stares at him for a moment, seeming surprised that he even said something. Colby’s pretty surprised too, and he tries to explain himself through Sam’s bewildered gaze. “It uh... It just really fuckin’ hurts, without it.”

”I know,” Sam says, and Colby feels something sink icy claws into his heart. Fuck, but Sam really did like hurting him, didn’t he? That causes an uneasy, oozing feeling to seep Into his bones. 

“Just... please?” Colby asks quietly, and he’s warring between how he feels about having said something, because sure he’s not super in the mood to have his ass fucked tonight, but... he’s also scared to death of sending Sam away. 

Sam’s quiet for another long moment. And maybe not much time passes, but it sure feels like it in Colby’s mind. Finally, he nods. “You got something?” He asks. 

Colby nods, relief rushing through his body. “In my backpack,” He says, gesturing at it, because actually grabbing lube had been on his agenda for a while. Sam stares at him for a few more seconds, before moving off, shedding his shirt as he went. He comes back with the bottle, staring at it quizzically, something dark in his eyes when he looks at Colby. 

Colby swallows, “Okay,” He says. “Go for it.” And he goes to roll onto his stomach but Sam catches his hips before he can. 

“No,” Sam says, and there’s something else in his eyes, something hidden behind the facade he’s kept up for months now, that uncaring shell, “I want to see your face.” 

_Oh..._ What can Colby do but nod? 

The sex proceeds from there. Sam pushes his legs up, holding himself up over Colby, watching his face as he shoves inside of him all at once. Colby lets out some sort of broken noise, his eyes squeezing closed, because there’s lube this time but fuck that’s still a lot. “No,” Sam says, “Colby, look at me.” 

And he’s not moving, so Colby can actually process the sensation as he struggles to control the pain shooting up his spine so that he can look up at Sam. He feels like there must be a less painful way to do this, because it hurts fucking every time...

”I want you to watch me,” Sam says firmly. “Watch me, and let me watch you.” He waits until Colby nods to start moving again. And Colby’s eyes try to squeeze closed again at the pain of the first few movements because this feels so different than the previous times and he’s probably never really healed from the other times... but every time he starts struggling to keep his eyes open Sam stops, letting him get his bearings so that Colby will look at him. 

And slowly, as usual, the pain fades, and Sam can just continue. And it’s fucking weird, because Sam’s admitted that he likes hurting Colby at this point, but he’s moving his hips in a slow, rolling movement that touches on a sensitive part of his body that he’s only recently discovered, something Sam had grazed over but never given such consistent pressure.... And fuck, Colby’s body is remembering why they do this, why other people must do this as he grips at Sam’s shoulders and presses his face into Sam’s neck so that all he can see, hear, feel, smell, _taste_ is Sam...

And his body’s learned to get off like this, so he does. And so does Sam, rocking into him after he’s come and he’s too sensitive to honestly say he’s enjoying it because it’s _fucking intense_... 

And all the while he never drops Colby’s gaze. 

And then Sam comes, and he’s letting Colby’s body relax back into the bed, letting his legs fall to the mattress. Colby feels fucking weird, like he should be feeling something he isn’t. He’s used to feeling used, feeling like a body, but... Sam kept watching him. 

Him.

And for a moment, Sam keeps watching him, kneeling over Colby. And then he sighs, rolling off the bed and reaching for his clothes. Colby holds still for another moment, watching Sam get dressed. It’s like this every time. But for just a moment, Colby felt closer to Sam. 

And he doesn’t want to lose that yet. 

“Sam.” He’s saying Sam’s name before he really realizes what he’s said. 

Sam pauses, looking at him expectantly. And Colby feels stupid when he says what he does next, but he still feels like he has to say it. “You don’t have to leave.” 

Sam just stares at him, and for a moment, Colby almost feels it drop, the facade that he’s had up for so long, for months... since Kat’s death. 

And then the moment is over. Sam just shakes his head and walks quickly from the room. 

“Fuck...” Colby lets his head fall back to the pillow. “”You don’t have to leave?” What the fuck, Colby?” He presses his hands into his eyes. 

He was just a body. Just a warm hole to Sam..

He needed to remember that. 

“Fuck...” 

And Colby sleeps alone again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s not gonna be an update to Unexpected this week. Instead, a little plot bunny for the Zombie Apocalypse Universe hit me so I’ll be writing that out instead. 
> 
> It’s gonna be a little bit different than the previous entries but I think it needs to happen. 
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed! Keep an eye out for the next piece!

**Author's Note:**

> The Dead and Gone Universe has just been pumping out content recently. 
> 
> Not gonna be an update on Unexpected this week. That story’s not happening organically right now. 
> 
> I have another entry for the Dead and Gone ‘Verse coming soon. It’ll be a slightly more traditional style story than these snippets have been but I hope y’all’ll enjoy it. 
> 
> Once again, this relationship between Sam and Colby is not healthy (and is frankly borderline abusive) and is written to be as such. Younger readers, please don’t take this as a model for anything other than what not to do. 
> 
> Alrighty, well, thank you as always for reading! Hope y’all enjoyed and I’ll see you all in the next one!


End file.
